Recovery
by ms bricolage
Summary: It isn't the witches and wizards that freak her out, because magical people, whatever, easy enough. But she's got a past she can't think about and a future going nowhere, and Kagome doesn't really know how to settle. [IYHP crossover]; Rework for former 'Of London Adventures'.
1. Prologue

**AN:** not a new story I swear (kinda); for those of you interested, this is a rewrite of _Of London Adventures_, and yes, finally has a plan and a destination and another chapter that will be posted later today, promise.

* * *

><p>She woke up alone.<p>

It was the pulsating _thrum_ that finally brought her back to consciousness; a heady beat trapped under her skin, like tidal waves which she couldn't quite break free of. It reminded her of being entombed, of being _stuck_…she was drowning, constantly short of breath, and she wasn't dying and she wasn't living and it _hurt_.

Everything hurt.

(she'd lost, they'd _lost_; all she could see when she closed her eyes was blood and _red eyes_, and so she kept her gaze on the blurry wall that must've been Kaede's hut and firmly shut down)

Eventually the old priestess returned, a basket of herbs tucked at her side, and a frown hidden in platitudes. She sat down by her bedside and gently explained the situation, drawing forth foggy memories that didn't want to return, that she didn't _want_ to have back. Memories of death and loss and least importantly, victory. A triumph tinged with the most bitter of punishments…the kind which she had chosen.

And when she was sent back to her home, the one without her past, without a future, she was left with only one person to blame, the one who had done the wishing and the wanting and the _ruining_.

Herself.


	2. Chapter 1

.

.

Summer's in England were _meant_ to be warm; muggy perhaps, and usually windy in these parts, but definitely warm.

Kagome tugged her scarf more tightly around her neck with a sigh, sticking her hands in her pockets the moment they were free. It would figure that the one year she was forced to travel abroad would be the year which the country turned into a veritable mass of dreary and cold. The skies never cleared and the rain alternated places with a fine-washed mist that deceived you into thinking it wasn't terrible outside, until you entered a building and realized you were soaked to the bone.

She rounded the corner of the alleyway, brick walls opening up to reveal a large grass field and the great winding landscape of the academy. A school which was fairly impressive in size, particularly when compared to those in Japan, although reaching it from the Changs' house had become a bit of an annoyance. The taxi services in London had been impressive to hear about, but their tube system was hardly boast-worthy at the moment; Kagome had spent the better part of her morning in a train that had abruptly decided to head in the completely wrong direction.

Not that it mattered, not really. Finishing her high school education hadn't been her idea, neither had going to London to stay with family friends. She still found herself holding her breath around large crowds of people, hating the sounds and the bright lights of the downtown, and missed the peace of the shrine desperately. If it hadn't been for the nostalgia, she would have fought harder to stay there.

She started the slow trek through the campus, bags swinging at her side with each steady step, eyes squinted in the face of the rain. Every time she looked at the school she was taken aback with the reminder of where she was, _when_ she was…it was like a blow to the chest. The academy was one of those traditional, prestigious schools that had been around for years, the city growing and expanding in the spaces around it, until finding the place meant walking through buildings, around apartment complexes and shopping centers, for it was tucked away in the flourished city, remaining stagnant whilst everything else continued to change.

(this was funny for reasons she didn't want to think about, and she snickered)

Surely she could just blame her tardiness on the lateness of the train? Or the fact that making her way from the start of the school's property line to the actual classroom took the better part of a half hour?

"Kagome!" a voice behind her yelled, startling her enough so that she stopped where she stood, hair plastered to her face.

She turned around. "Cho?"

The young Asian woman, umbrella in tow, walked up to her. She eyed Kagome curiously. "I thought you left _before_ I did? Did you get caught in that train muck this morning as well?"

As she spoke she reached into her bag, pulling out a smaller but nearly identical umbrella to the one she currently held above her. She handed it to Kagome without a word, who took it in a similar manner.

"I did."

"Terrible thing, wasn't it?"

Kagome popped open the umbrella, staring up into the rain absently before straightening the item and looking back to the girl. Cho, while sometimes sad, in the way that Kagome couldn't look at a brick building without feeling lost, was largely helpful, to the point where sometimes Kagome fancied her a monitor rather than a friend. She wasn't sure that her mother would have mentioned anything about her…circumstances to the family, but she would neither put it past her to heavily imply that she needed all the help she could get.

"It was definitely weird." They began walking towards the school again – Cho was taking summer classes as a supplement to her boarding school ones, and was in her final year as well; Kagome wasn't certain what her other school taught her, for it definitely wasn't history and sciences. Cho was smart, but knew even less than Kagome did.

And Kagome had taken _years_ off of her education.

"I promise, it certainly isn't normal," she was saying "the trains last year were way more reliable."

Kagome pursed her lips together, humming a small agreement. "You're done this year though, aren't you?"

"_Yes_, thank god. I mean, it'll be nice to start doing what I want to, y'know?"

Her smile was tight. "Yeah, absolutely."

"And with ah –– with my other school finished this year, I've covered all my bases."

According to what Kagome had heard, it was more Cho's parents idea than hers that she do additional schooling, a _just in case_ precautionary measure. Cho was remarkably upbeat about doing it though. "Your mother said you were still going back in the fall though?"

"Just to get some paperwork stuff. After _our_ graduation here," and at this, she turned, all pointed looks, to Kagome "then we're finally able to go out into the world."

"You sound like you've got big plans."

Cho nodded, taking in a big breath…before exhaling it in the next pause. Her eyes darted to Kagome and she smiled shakily. "There's something I really want to do." She glanced away quickly. "And you? Now that you're not, uh, sick anymore, do you have any ideas?"

Normally Cho didn't ask really direct questions about the illness that Kagome was certain Mama had alluded to, and it threw her off. "Mine?"

Cho nodded, and the rain spat against their umbrellas in the silence that followed.

"No," she said finally "no plans yet."

No _future_ yet, not really. The thought distracted her momentarily, for it was the only one that had been circulating in her head since last year. She pulled her sleeve up over her hand, the one that held onto the umbrella handle, and tucked the other one back into her pocket, staring at the ground; the illness thing was convenient, if only because the fact that she lacked in absolutely everything to do with the modern world could be explained away easily enough to her not believing she'd have a future. It was sort of true in its own way.

"So," Cho continued, as they finally made it to the entranceway, eager to change topics "did you finish the English essay yet?" She shook the excess water off her umbrella and folded it back up, continuing, "I know your English is good, really great actually, considering you said you hadn't taken classes in a while, but if you want a second opinion I thought maybe we could swap, help each other out?"

Almost positive that she was trying to engage her rather than honestly requiring her help, Kagome toyed with the ever present _no_ that lingered on her lips, a firm shut down of communication. But Mama had been worried, had done the only thing she could think of, and it just really didn't mean anything to Kagome why Cho wanted to try and reach out.

Besides, Sesshomaru had been the one to insist that she learn English better, talking about _clan member_ and _shame on the family name_, and she just –

She carded a hand through her hair, wringing the water out of it.

"Yeah," she said slowly, images sweeping behind her eyes, "that'd be nice."

.

When the Changs had first met her at the airport, with nothing but a duffle bag and tired eyes, they'd been sympathetic to the point of pity. And Kagome hadn't minded, because it meant they didn't question the fact that she had to pick up the knives she'd brought across the country border, or that she carried a bow and arrow in her bag whenever possible. It wasn't until she was wandering the house hallways in the early hours of the morning, unable to sleep, and happened across Cho's mother and her haggard face, holding her daughter in a far-too-tight embrace, that she realized that their silence wasn't due to some misplaced sense of empathy.

It was because they had been through something too.

.

"Mama? Hello?"

The static crackled in her ear, and not for the first time Kagome protested the technological-illiteracy of the Chang household. She glared half-heartedly out the window of her room until the ire that brewed in her gut fizzled out; a flame without oxygen.

Eventually the voice on the other end connected. "Hello dear. Sorry about that."

Kagome twirled the phone cord around her finger. "No worries Mama."

"You understand how your aunt gets when I ignore her calls."

She thought back to the last three week long freeze out that was a direct result of baby Souta accidently unplugging the phone line and nodded to herself. "I do."

"She says hello, by the way. She wanted to know when you'd be back…I think she was hoping you could visit her sometime."

"Mama…"

"It was just an idea Kagome. Would visiting family be so awful?"

"You know it could be."

"I don't think they would say anything –"

"Look, Mama, that isn't why I called." Kagome sighed, eyes darting out the window again.

"I know. I'm sorry." There was a faint _thudding_ in the background, and Kagome closed her eyes, clearly seeing her mother in the kitchen, chopping vegetables up for dinner. "I heard from Tao that school went well?"

Tao had always been Mr. Chang to Kagome, but him and Mama had gone to school together and couldn't call him by anything else. "Yes, my grades were good."

"That's excellent dear!"

"Thank you."

"You know…not to push, but you could always think about applying to college too. Gramps had some money saved up and…I don't know, don't you think it might be nice?"

The phone felt clammy in her hands. "What would I even _do_ there Mama?"

"Well that would be your decision of course."

"I couldn't…" she trailed off, leaning against the wall and staring at the ceiling, "I couldn't waste your money." It was almost _always_ like this when she called, and before she could say anything else Kagome continued, "I _won't_, and we don't even know if I could manage to go somewhere that long without needing to…fix myself."

The _thudding_ stopped. "You managed London so far."

"So far."

"You could –"

"We've talked about this."

There was silence, and then a heavy exhale. "What was it that you called about?"

The strain on her family had perhaps been the greatest, because they saw only the after effects and none of the _good_ that had come from her travels. Mama had been dealing with her for so long now, without any hope really, and Kagome felt guilty about that, she did, but she didn't know any other way to function. To become better.

So she pressed on. "I need a favour, actually."

"Oh?"

"Can you…if it isn't too much trouble, could you find an excuse to give the Changs so that they don't see me off at the airport?" Her words came out rushed and a little uneasy, and she took a deep breath in after.

There was another crackle on the other end, and then, "I suppose so…but why?"

_It isn't a no._ "I'm uh…I've cancelled my return flight."

"You aren't coming home?"

"I'm not?" She said it like a question, and immediately amended, "I'm not. No. Mama, I think there's something here."

"Something." Kagome got off the wall and paced the length of the phone cord. "What does that even mean Kagome?"

"Uhm…magic, I think." Even saying the words out loud made her cringe, but there wasn't a better term for it…if that's even what it was. "I can't quite tell because of the, well, you know. The situation."

"Well could you at least _try_ and explain it to me?"

And because this was Mama and because she had been so very patient, Kagome stuck through the awkwardness. "Well, everything's really…fuzzy. I'm not even sure if it's an aura or…uhm, you know –"

A sigh. "Demons."

"Yeah." She rushed the words out. "It's like I'm getting interference and everything is obscured…but I mean, it's probably not, because it's been close I think, and if it was close I would've," Kagome's voice caught, a small sob lodged in her throat "I would've killed it by now."

"Oh honey, you don't know that." Mama soothed.

"But I do, I do." She scrubbed her face – she hadn't cried yet, this wouldn't be the time. "So I need to follow it. Whatever it turns out to be."

Kagome could hear her heart beating, a steady _lub-dub, lub-dub_ in her head that reminded her that she was alive, for better or worse. And she had to deal with the consequences of that.

"Alright."

Her eyes slammed shut.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, just…promise me you'll be safe."

She chuckled breathlessly. "I don't think that's really necessary anymore…but okay."

There was shuffling on the other end. "Do you know where you're going?"

"No," half out of habit, half to make herself feel better, Kagome ducked her head out the door of her room, "but I know where I'm starting. I overheard Cho and her parents talking about where they're dropping her off."

It was barely a start, it was _less_ than a start, actually, because it could turn out to be nothing at all, or she could be following the wrong lead, perhaps it'd been someone else from summer school or one of Cho's parents, or, or –

–it didn't really matter. It was _something_ and she needed that more than ever. Even if something turned out to be nothing at all.

Especially if it turned out to be nothing.

And perhaps Mama understood that, for all she said was, "Okay. I'll talk to the Changs and you…find what you're looking for, okay?"

"Yeah," she glanced outside, to the stormy skies, "I'll do that."

.

.

Being forced back into the twenty-first century hadn't been the biggest surprise of her life. In fact, according to every shaman, taiyoukai, and high priest she managed to ask, it was the most-likely outcome – she was born in this era and it was only due to the power of the jewel that she was able to traverse to one very specific point in time. With her duty concluded and the jewel back to what was supposedly its dormant state, she would have to return to the _when_ that she was always meant to spend her days in.

But things hadn't gone down the way they were _meant_ to, and the jewel was hardly in the state it was supposed to be. Some days – _better_ days – she thought it was a good fate that she had to _choose_ to return, because at least she was able to keep some control of the whole situation. On her bad days it was also the most terrifying option possible, because she had to face making the decision daily, to stay here and to stay away.

Of course, things could have been worse. She could have been stuck in the past _after_ everything that had happened.

.

.

Oddly enough, following the Changs' to Kings Cross wasn't the most difficult part of her newfound espionage, because evidently the station was a popular one, and taxis there were common place; no one even noticed her behind the family. She only had to wait a few minutes after they had gotten off, and then she was trailing after them, duffle bag in hand.

No, what _was_ difficult was getting over the image of Cho disappearing into a wall.

A _wall._

Kagome shifted, her forehead wrinkling. It wasn't that she hadn't seen weirder things – she _had_ – but this was Europe and so it kind of was still strange to reconcile. She'd been using the foreignness of the whole continent to combat nightmares, to avoid realities that tucked themselves into the very visceral memories triggered by shrines and the smell of ramen. The distorted concept of physical laws was something she had only ever had to really consider in another time, and now that it was clashing with _London_ and _modern era_ it poured nausea through her veins.

Luckily she could afford to spend a few moments in suspended disbelief, because the Changs hung around for a several minutes afterwards. By the time the couple walked away Kagome had regained her bearings and was hiding behind a particularly large man in a trench coat, one who smelt too strongly of fish and used too much oil in his mustache. Wax. Whatever, it was an English thing, hardly mattered.

She watched them turn a corner, then slipped out to where they'd been standing. It was a brick wall, _just_ a brick wall, but smart people didn't put portals in places with obvious archways and signs that said _look here please, step this way._

Except, well, when she _did _look, with a discerning eye and a body that emitted way too much free energy, the words _9 ¾ - Hogwarts Express_ slowly appeared on the wall. So y'know, maybe the people with the magic and the power here in Europe did things a bit differently. Okay.

She walked forward a few more steps, bringing her body as close to the wall as she dared. It was certainly one thing to watch someone she knew run at breakneck speed _into_ a solid object, and another thing to do it herself. Even if she _was_ fairly positive that whatever purifying effects that still remained at her disposal must also work on English magic, and even if the whole _¾ _thing had pretty much given the entire falsehood away. It was still a _solid brick wall_.

So instead, she raised her hand and laid the palm flush against the surface, waiting for the inevitable to possibly happen. She couldn't focus, couldn't sharpen her skills to a point where they might work, could only stand and tighten her grip on her bag, and watch as her hand, her arm, and eventually her upper body, slowly moved through the wall.

It felt kind of like moving through putty, kind of like freedom, so Kagome grinned and let herself fall the rest of the way through the barrier.

.

Kagome knew she was strong, because she was a bad-ass, (former) time-travelling priestess who didn't take anyone's shit, unless y'know, they seemed nice.

Most days she wore this knowledge like the armour it was, secure that even though her mind was not always her ally, her body _was_; regardless of the recent power upheaval, she could still scale walls and fire an arrow into someone's throat from seventy feet away, and she always stood a _fighting chance_. But sometimes, she forgot. Misplaced the knowledge, left it next to memories of bloodshed both cause and consumed, and she was the weaker for it.

Stuck in a train full of same-age peers, whose judgmental criteria remained a mystery to her? The challenge was no longer _can I defeat them_ or even _do I worry what they think of me_, but rather on how to blend in, and she was lost as to how appear unremarkable and unnoticeable in a place she knew nothing about. It was difficult to feel strong when that wasn't what the game was about, and she didn't even know the game, let alone how to win.

Coming across a compartment that at least appear partially empty, she knocked on the door and hoped it wasn't Cho behind it.

"Yes?"

She slid open the door, greeted by three faces, none of which were ones she knew. "Excuse me," she started, gaze landing on the girl with the bushy hair and suspicious eyes, "do you mind if I join you? There aren't any empty compartments left."

It was a boy who spoke first, his shrug the only sign of protest. "Yeah, sure." He glanced to his companion next to him, a red head with enough freckles to start a galaxy. "But uh, hasn't the train been moving for a while?"

"Has it?" She asked, twisting her bag off her shoulder and sliding next to the girl. "Well I'm really grateful you're letting me impose then."

The silence that followed was the one of a conversation interrupted, so Kagome kept her eyes on her feet and said nothing. Typically people were more likely to let you slide by if you made an effort _not_ to study them, though that was difficult when she was still trying to drum the word _strong_ through her head, and when no one would stop looking at her.

"I never caught your name…?" The girl asked, shifting so her knees were angled towards Kagome. She glanced up.

"Kagome." She grinned tightly. "And you?"

"Hermione," she said, exchanging a loaded stare with the companion in front of her, "this is Ron," she continued, nodding to the redhead, "and Harry."

She singled out the dark haired boy with the uneven glasses, as if this should have set off a secret, and Kagome once more wrestled with an answer without context. She smiled at the group, a "nice to meet you" quick out her mouth, and prayed the platitude was satisfying enough.

It wasn't, if the deafening quiet that ensued was anything to go by.

"So, Kagome," Hermione said, her mouth fumbling through the foreign syllables, "that's Japanese, isn't it? Have you just moved to England then, or did you transfer in?"

_Do these people even have transfers?_ It wasn't bad enough the Kagome had only _just_ finished high school, now she was dealing with a system far beyond her understanding. The fact that she was on a train going to a school, for the first matter, was something she had just figured out. She hadn't quite parsed out what type of school it was.

Not demons, because no one was screaming. Not Japanese at _all_, nothing familiar to her, which was a blessing and a curse, everything _was_, after all, and –

– she deflected. "How do you know I haven't always lived here?"

"Your accent. It isn't from the area, it definitely isn't native English."

"Ah," she murmured, "fair enough.

There was background noise, the train beating over the track as it hurtled them to their destination, a lady outside who was pushing a little cart of something or another, the one Kagome had gotten stuck behind when trying to navigate the corridor earlier. The sun poured through the window, a change from the clouds dripping with condensation, lit the thrum of magic that seemed to be building and building underneath her, a faint hum that she could feel underneath here, in the manner that those standing on a boat can understand the waves that move beneath. It was fascinating, for a change, yet none of it really distracted from the gaping lull in conversation that was three English kids waiting for Kagome to explain herself.

She didn't.

"What house are you in?" Hermione asked, then, as if it was of no consequence that Kagome wouldn't look at her. "I've just noticed that you aren't in any house robes."

She was tempted to say _none of your damn business lady_, if not for the fact that she actually had an answer for this one, because she wasn't supposed to be here and so she'd eavesdropped on a lot of conversations earlier.

(she really had been stuck behind the trolley lady for a long while)

"Hufflepuff." She said, her voice unwavering. Confident. Full of finality.

"Ah."

As if this was all it took, the red head across from her, Ron, finally shot Hermione a look that screamed _c'mon _and they both shut up. Looked away and allowed Kagome the peace to drop her head and close her eyes.

She waited all of ten minutes, for their conversation to start up again and for her to decide that yeah, no, she didn't care, before relaxing into her seat and tuning out.

(because yeah, she was used to the looks and the strangeness, and she was able to adapt, easy; she'd been a modern girl in feudal Japan, a wise-ass in priestess garb, and then a fighter in a time of peace, so she could deal with the weirdness, she _could_)

.

It wasn't until the sun had start to set, 'til a freaking _castle_ had come into view, that the subject was broached in her mind again. Everything radiated some type of energy so potent that even she could feel its shape, she had to actually focus on not bolting out of her seat and finding a way off this train, asap, because she was seeing something she never thought she would again. She smiled.

It was _real_.

.

Unbeknownst to her, it was the same silly grin that usually adorned first years as they caught a glimpse of the castle they'd been told so much about. And it certainly wasn't the thing you'd expect to see on someone of Kagome's age.

As she left the compartment, duffel bag in tow, Hermione shot Harry and Ron a look. "That was odd."

Ron shrugged. "What? So she was a little strange. Don't mean that she's evil or nothin'."

At Harry's answering nod, Hermione scowled. "It doesn't mean that she's not. We have to be on our guard now that…"

She trailed off, staring off at Harry. He cleared his throat. "Now that I'm a walking target, y'mean?"

"You know that there might be Death Eaters at Hogwarts now. It's not as safe as it was in first year…although of course, that it was ever safe is arguable."

"Yeah…"

"And with Voldemort recruiting more people every day, we have to be more diligent than ever."

Ron huffed. "Okay Hermione, we get it. But if she was one of 'em, she wasn't doing a very good job at blending in."

Harry stood up, making his way to exit the compartment. He'd had enough transportation-related disasters to linger for too long, and Hermione and Ron followed without a word "So," he said "do you think she was one? A Death Eater?"

Hermione frowned. "Well…I don't know about that. But she's definitely hiding something."

Ron shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to keep an eye on her then."

Harry laughed, the tone flat. "Yeah, and half of Hogwarts."

Thankfully most of the train was cleared already, so no one was really around to hear them. It wasn't that any of this was news, just that insulting a pureblood often brought you as much trouble as being insulted by one used to.

"Don't worry mate," Ron jibbed, breaking the moment of silence "that number's dwindling every day."

He scoffed. "Yeah, that's not exactly reassuring."

.

.

.


End file.
